Break This Bittersweet Spell
by N.Mirz
Summary: what if Mr. Rochester was right? What if Jane was indeed a witch and her story was a mixture of Harry's childhood's misfortunes and Merope's sad youth? What would Mr. Rochester do if he found out? Would he react like Tom Riddle?
1. Oblivion

Disclaimer: as much as I want to say the opposite…but all characters belong to JKR and Bronte.

Summery: what if Mr. Rochester was right? What if Jane was indeed a witch and her story was a mixture of Harry's childhood's misfortunes and Merope's sad youth? What would Mr. Rochester do if he found out? Would he react like Tom Riddle? I think not, for he was indeed in love! Inspired by Bittersweet by Apocalyptica.

**Oblivion**

"Bessie, I swear I did not do it!"

"Miss Jane, I know it's impossible for you to reach those books with your height, but Mrs. Reed would not listen, so be a good child and stay in the …"

"I'm not going to the red room! Please not the red room!" I cried. I could feel something surging up inside me, and in my fear I gave it full rein. I did not know what had happened but Bessie gave a small scream.

"Bessie, what…"

"The red room!" she whispered incredulously, "where is the door to the red room? It seems…it has vanished!"

I looked at the spot she was looking at, and indeed, there it was: the blank wall where the door was supposed to be.

"Did you do it?" She asked, still shocked.

"How can I vanish a door?" I asked defiantly. Why would she ask me question like that?

"What is all this?" I heard the cold voice of my aunt say. "Bessie, did I not ask you to take her to the red room? She has to be punished, for throwing those books at her cousins."

"I was ma'am, but the room…that is the door, it's vanished"

"what nonsense is this? How can it…" but she trailed off as her eyes fell on the blank wall where the door should have been. She went forward and touched the wall; it seemed solid enough. She was enraged.

"I've had enough with you," she said spitefully, addressing me. "Lock her up in the nursery, Bessie, until Mr. Brocklehurst arrives." Poor Bessie, hastily obeyed and dragged me along with her to the nursery.

Once locked in, I sat down in the dim light of a single candle, wondering at the cruelty of my aunt. Tears of anger ran down my cheeks. How could she blame me for everything that happened in her own strange, haunted house? Oh yes, it was haunted, and by her husband for she had broken her promise to him, to raise me as one of her own. She was cruel, I hated her! And again tears filled up my eyes as I remembered how many times I had tried to be good to make her like me a little, for I wanted to be loved and to love her, but she would always punish me even when I hadn't done anything!

I did not know how long I had been struggling with tears and my 'evil' thoughts as Bessie called them when I said how unjust Mrs. Reed was. But at last Bessie came in and called me. She said that Mr. Brocklehurst was waiting for me with Mrs. Reed in the drawing room.

"Who is he, Bessie?" I asked

"The director of Lowood Institute: a school you are to go to."

"Oh! I think I should like that." I contemplated "I would be gone from here and I would never have to…" but I stopped feeling Bessie's reproving glance.

"Now, now, Miss Eyre, be a good child." She said. "here, go in, your aunt is waiting." She opened the door and pushed me slightly forward.

I wondered what Mr. Brocklehurst would be like. I hoped he was nice and not cruel like aunt Reed. Would he be big and intimidating? I hoped not, for Bessie had told me that people disliked me if I were afraid of them.

I saw Mrs. Reed, occupying her usual seat by the fire and in front of her was a very strange looking man sitting in an armchair, which I had never seen before in that room. His somewhat graying hair was long and tied behind him and his extraordinary beard was long enough to touch his chest. Although he had dressed like a gentleman, he did not quite look like the few other gentlemen I had seen. When I entered he looked at me with strikingly blue eyes from behind half-moon spectacles. He smiled at me but I caught Mrs. Reed's cold eyes; she beckoned me to go forward.

"Jane, this is Mr. Brocklehurst." She said.

"Good evening," he said.

"Good evening, sir" I mumbled.

"Well, I trust that you are a good child, Miss Eyre."

I could not answer in the affirmative, for in my little world I had been told otherwise. Mrs. Reed however answered for me.

"I suppose the less said on the subject the better" she said.

"oh, what a pity" he said seemingly sadly. "I should like to talk with you, young lady." He looked at me in a way as if he was trying to determine for himself whether what Mrs. Reed had said was true.

"Would you mind leaving us alone for a few minutes?" he asked Mrs. Reed, and I was afraid for a second that she was indeed going to let me be alone with this strange man in the room, but I saw in her countenance that she would not like to do so. But hardly a moment later, she stood with a blank expression and left in silence. Mr. Brocklehurst was smiling as he turned to me. He nonchalantly, took out a wooden stick, and I thought Mrs. Reed had told him to punish me, just like she always did. But he only moved it towards the door and I thought I could hear the door lock.

"Well, why don't you sit down, Jane?" he said kindly as he gestured towards the chair Mrs. Reed had just vacated.

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How was it? Is the idea hopeless or should I continue? Plz R&R


	2. Truth

**Truth**

I sat down, trying to be brave, for I had no intentions of making this strange man hate me. He seemed kind, at least the twinkling of his eyes were so. I was quite certain he was no young man and yet he seemed too healthy for an old man. Not like Mr. Baggins that used to visit my aunt so often, for he was so old and always angry and complaining of poor health.

Mr. Brocklehurst smiled and I timidly returned the gesture.

"So my dear girl why does your aunt disapprove of you so?" he asked. I was wondering how should I answer that question; moreover what had my aunt told him about me. I contemplated that I should tell the truth that I knew, it would not do after all to lie to the director of my future school. But he might not believe me if Mrs. Reed had already told him that I was a liar as she did to everyone else. But at last I saw that he was going to relieve me of the obligation to answer by the observation:

"You seem like a well mannered young lady."

"Thank you, sir"

"Well, then why is your aunt not happy?"

Now without hesitation I finally said "Because strange things happen in this house that she blames on me, but I swear I did not do them" I said in an attempt to clarify myself of the guilt I had not committed.

Contrary to my expectations he smiled calmly and asked "what strange things, child?"

"This house is haunted by my uncle who is dead but she denies that and whatever that the ghosts do is blamed on me because she dislikes me; like the vanishing of the doors or the books that are thrown across the room and I could not even reach them because they were placed so high." O did not know why I was telling Mr. Brocklehurst all these that I dared tell no one out of fear of Mrs. Reed, but he seemed kind unlike other gentlemen that came to this house. I thought he was not going to believe me but he was still smiling.

"And do you know why these happen?"

"No, sir"

"What were you feeling when they happened?"

"I never meant to do anything!" I protested.

"I know" he said kindly, "but tell me what were you feeling when for example the books were thrown?"

"I was upset, sir." I mumbled. "My cousin was laughing at me and ridiculing my parents"

"Exactly!" he nodded and I was wondering what it was that amused him.

"It happens to all of us at the young age." He said mysteriously.

"_What_ happens, sir?"

"Uncontrollable magic!" he exclaimed wisely and I was wondering if hwe was mocking me, or perhaps he was testing me for his school.

"Magic does not exist, sir!" I said firmly.

"Does it not? How would you explain all these things that you can do?" he said knowingly.

"But I don't do anything!"

"Not intentionally, but when anger or fear grips us or extreme joy or sadness overcomes us it becomes hard to contain it and that's when it shows it's signs of existence within us! And in our scool you'll learn to control your magic so as to avoid these accidents."

"But why does it only happen to me?"

"Because you are the only witch in this family."

"I am not a witch!" I said indignantly. "They only exist in fairy tales!"

He only chuckled and took out the wooden stick again, and I eyed it suspiciously and half expectantly.

"You see I'm a wizard, too." He said, "Do you know what this is?"

"It looks like the wand fairies have in books" I said

He did not answer but flicked the stick and two crystal glasses appeared out of thin air. They contained a beautiful golden liquid and landed in front of us on the table.

"well, why don' you help yourself to a drink?" he said taking his own glass. I only watched in amazement.

"How did you do that, sir?"

"Magic" he said triumphantly for I was sure he knew that I believed him now.

"Now do you know where I'll be taking you?"

"Lowood Institute, sir?"I asked wondering if Bessie had told me the name correctly.

Now he frowned a little "that's what I told your aunt. I suppose you still don't know who I am?"

"Mr. Brockelhurst, sir."

"My name is Albus Dumbledore, and I'm the deputy head master of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, you may call me Professor Dumbledore."

"What a strange name!" I exclaimed and immediately felt sorry for having said that but to my surprise he was smiling.

"Did you lie to Mrs. Reed, then, sir?" I asked accusingly.

"Well, there are rules in the magical world that we have to abide by. Your aunt is a muggle, a non magical person, and by the rules of our ministry they are not allowed to know of our existence."

"Will I be going to Hogwarts, sir? I asked hopefully.

"Yes, but before you do," and he produced an envelope from his pocket, "you have to buy a few things." He gave the envelope to me.

I read it as quickly as I could but considering my age then, it was yet too slow. On it was written,

-shire

Gateshead

The nursery

Ms. Eyre

I opened it : it was an announcement of my acceptance in their school as well as a list of materials I had never heard of before that were required for my education.

I looked up at Professor Dumbledore: why am I the only witch in the family, why aren't my cousins to come as well?"

"Because the magical blood does not flow in their veins."

"But they are my relations!"

"True. But their parents were both deprived of the power, of course there are witches and wizards of muggle parentage, but they must have had ancestors of magical race"

"You mean my parents were…"I had never known much about my parents. My aunt despised anmd the only thing she would ever say of them was that how poor they were and how they had left me on her hands.

"Yes, both your parents had attended Hogwarts."

The idea was cheering, that I should go to a place that my parents had once been to. But a depressing thought suddenly struck me.

"But Mrs. Reed says they were poor and died of poverty. _She_ would not pay for all this." I gave him back the list.

"My dear girl," said the professor apparently shocked, "your parents did not die of poverty! I did not know them personally but I knew that Mr. and Mrs. Eyre worked at the ministry and died of back-firing spells during an experiment, you see magic could be quite dangerous, if one is not careful."

"Well, they must have been poor after all, if they worked." I mused.

"No," he said, "the wizarding world is different from the muggles; working is not a sign of dependence but rather independence!"

"But all the same I still do not have money to buy those and Mrs. Reed won't buy them for me." I said sadly.

"Your parents have left you quite a sum that would last as long as your education requires, and after that you may earn your living."

I jumped up from glee at the idea of independence and not having to live with my aunt and cousins any longer and asked him if he could help me buy the materials and books.

"Of course," he answered kindly, smiling down at me as he stood. "I will come by on Thursday and we can go to London to purchase them."

"London?" I asked excitedly. "I shall go to London?"

"Of course" he said matter-of-factly.

"But London is so far, would you ask Aunt Reed if she would allow me to go?" I pleaded.

"well, you needn't worry about that," said he as he flicked his wand and vanished the now empty glasses, (for I had drank of that delicious golden liquid as he spoke) and moved towards the door "Wizards have much faster means of travel." And he winked at me!

"Goodbye, for now, Miss Eyre" and he went out the door as I waved my hand at him in amazement, wondering if I had dreamt all this.

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Thanks to all those who had reviewed, I hope you enjoyed it!


	3. The Thursday

A/N: Wow! I finally got to write a chapter. Laziness is a horrible thing, but a disappointed writer is even worse. My apologies to anyone who has been waiting. I won't promise regular updates but I do hope I would get passed these first chapters and get to the fun part. I had lost my motivation. But I think I might have got a new one. Read and….(I don't dare ask for reviews after such a long delay.)

I could hardly sit quiet for a minute when Thursday finally arrived; so much so that Bessie got crossed and threatened me with no breakfast. I had woken up early, much earlier than anyone else that morning, and had tossed and turned a lot the night before, before I could fall sleep. But excitement deprived me of a peaceful slumber.

At last Bessie woke up and helped me dress, but said that I had to wait for others to wake for breakfast. I didn't mind since I could not, I was sure, eat anything.

Minutes felt like hours and I found it hard to concentrate on anything but the prospect of a new life; a world entirely different to what I had yet known.

I mumbled a good morning to Mrs. Reed, when Bessie took me down for breakfast, and sat silently at the table, careful not to make any remarks as John harassed me as usual lest I make Mrs. Reed angry and she would change her mind and not let me go with Professor Dumbledore. I felt nauseous too, but tried to eat just to satisfy Bessie. I would be "good" today.

When breakfast was over at last, Mrs. Reed and her children went out "carriage riding" as Georgiana told me with her tongue sticking out, and Bessie told me to go and get ready as she finished packing my clothes. As I started meddling with my hair in front of the looking glass, worry crept over me. What if he changed his mind? Or forgot?

"What are you doing Miss Jane? Not that way!" Bessie scolded as she took the comb from me. I let her smoothen my hair as I looked at her with anxious eyes.

"Bessie, Mr. Dumb…er…Brockelhurst is coming today?"

She narrowed her eyes "yes he will come today. You won't forget that you would be a good girl?"

"No, I won't forget."

Her lips twisted with some sort of emotion that I could not place. "come here" she said. And I did, suddenly realising that with leaving Gateshead, I would never see Bessie again. I put my arms around her neck.

"_You are a strange child, Miss Jane" she said as she looked down at me. "A little roving, solitary thing. And you are going to school"_

_I nodded. _

"_And won't you be sorry to leave poor Bessie?"_

"_What does Bessie care for me? She is always scolding me."_

"_But you are such a queer, frightened shy little thing. You should be bolder."_

I gave her one of my childish smiles "I promise I will be"

"_But you're glad to leave me?"_

"_Not at all Bessie. Indeed, just now I'm rather sorry."_

"_Just now? And rather! How coolly my lady says it. And I daresay she won't give me a kiss if I asked her. She will say she would _rather_ not."_

"_I will give and welcome you. Bend your head" _She did and as we mutually embraced, the door bell ring.

I jumped. "He's here!"

"Come now." Bessie said.

And there he was at the door; The tall aging man with the long beard and Blue eyes twinkling from behind the odd looking half-moon spectacles; Smiling at me.

"Ah good morning"

"Good morning, sir."

"Ready?" he said and looked at Bessie for confirmation.

"Yes" I answered gleefully.

"Good bye Miss Jane." Bessie said and when I looked at her, I realized her eyes seemed wet.

"Good bye Bessie." I said as I kissed her cheek.

She looked around confusedly for a moment, and then turned to Professor Dumbledore. "Where is the couch-man, sir?"

"Oh you can give her luggage to me." He said smiling. Bessie looked uneasy but did so, and after another moment the door was closed, and I bid Gateshead farewell as I fell into step besides the Professor.

"Is the carriage very far?" I asked.

"We shall not be going in a carriage."

"Then how are we to get to London?"

"Well, Wizards have their own way of travelling."

I looked around but there were no trace of brooms around either. Besides I wouldn't go with one, I didn't know how and would fall.

"Sir, are you going to carry that all the way?" I asked looking at my luggage. "It must be heavy." He only chuckled and looked at the fields around. There was not a soul there, except if one counted the birds. Then he took his wand out again like last time, and tapped at the luggage. And it vanished!

"Where did it go?" I exclaimed.

"To the Kings Cross Station."

I did not know where that was, but assuming it was somewhere in London, I did not ask any more questions.

"Hold on to my arm" he said. I was reluctant wondering what wonders he was about to do now, but I did as he asked.

I felt suffocated as all around me span into darkness and I felt enclosed within some dark walls pressing on me. I closed my eyes and tried to scream but there was not sufficient air. However it did not last long as in mere seconds I was released.

I wanted to burst out with fear and curiosity, but the moment I opened my eyes, we were no longer near the gates of my aunt's house, nor in the fields of _shire anymore. But in a crowded room with many unusually dressed people sitted at round tables and talking aloud. It looked like it would be an inn, except it was strangely different than the little I had seen of other inns. I moved closer to the professor instinctly.

"Where are we?"

"The Leaky Cauldron. We are going to buy you what you will need for school, as I promised you."

"From here?"

"No, my dear. From Diagon Alley. This place is only a connection from the muggle London to ours."

"Professor Dumbledor!" said a man from the other side of the room as he came towards us.

"Oh hello, Tom."

"New student?" he asked gesturing at me.

"Yes."

"Wonderful! Care for a drink?"

"No thank you we have to go." He said, as he headed towards a door I hadn't seen and followed close behind.


	4. Uncle John

Here is another one. Hope you enjoy it. And please review.

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I looked around me with amusement, gaping at some of the most strange things, and longing to explore the miracles I saw. Professor Dumbledore allowed me a moment to register my surroundings before calling for my attention.

"Now, before we start your shopping for the new school year, and I trust you have the letter with you?", he paused, and continued when I nodded. "There is someone who you shall meet first."

It took a minute for comprehension to dawn on me.

"Someone? Who?"

"Patience is a virtue, young lady." He chuckled. I bit my lip out of anxiety as well as to try and keep quiet before I embarrassed myself.

We passed several shops; some had a rather frightful appearance, and most were very eccentric, though I seemed to be the only one to realize that. There was one which sold broom sticks, rather like the ones the servants used to clean the terrace. However, from what the posters showed, and I gasped when I realized they moved, much to the Professors amusement, these brooms were used for flying. Just like in fairy tales!

As we passed, several people greeted Professor Dumbledore. He must have had a lot of friends, or he must have been very well known. There was also someone who's countenance were strikingly similar to that of the Professor. Same blue eyes, and somehow the same features. Though, his nose was not crooked. He was also shorter and his beard had a more 'normal' length.

As we passed he coldly nodded at us and mumbled "Albus" in acknowledgment, to which the Professor smiled. But I thought the smile was sad…bitter. Like the smile of my late uncles Portrait at Gateshead.

"Sir, who-who was that?"

"My brother" he replied simply. And I thought it better not to ask more.

"Ah here we are" he said after a few more minutes walk during which I gazed at some more shops.

We entered a dimly lit shop, which seemed to be bigger than what it was. There were stacks of bottles of all colours on shelves that went up to the ceiling. At the end of the room, was a, to me, high, wooden desk and behind it a man with graying hair and warm brown eyes. He didn't seem to notice me at first.

"Good morning John." Professor Dumbledore said amiably.

'John' looked up from a book he was reading on the counter, and smiled.

"Albus! What a wonderful surprise. What can I do for you?"

"oh I'm here on a rather pleasant business. This is Jane Eyre." He said as he gently pushed me forward.

The man looked down at me and his smile faltered as he heard my name. An instant fear gripped me, and a desire to please, yet knowing I couldn't. I remembered Bessie's words. I was not afraid. The man came around the counter and kneeled down in front of me. I instinctly retreated backwards but Professor Dumbledore's hands on my shoulders prevented me from moving.

"Jane Eyre?" The man said grabbing my hands; and I thought his eyes were filled with tears.

"y-yes, sir" I answered unsure.

"Miss Eyre, this is Mr. John Eyre. Your father's brother." Said Professor Dumbledore; and I looked with wide eyes at my… uncle. He was still looking at me in that odd, frightening way. But his eyes were kind ('in contrast to the cold, uncaring gaze of Mrs. Reed' I thought)

"You look so much like your parents." He said. I did not know how to reply.

"John, Miss Eyre will be going to Hogwarts this year." Said Dumbledore. And I've brought her to Diagon to buy her the books and robes, etc.

My uncle finally stopped searching my face for my parents and stood up.

"Oh, I could take care of that, Albus." He smiled again, now quite happy. "gladly" he added.

"Well, that would be splendid. Unless you object…?" he turned to me, I shook my head. If I had found a relation of mine who were not the Reeds, I would want to know them better, and I knew I was safe.

"Very good. Ah but before I forget…" he searched his pockets and took out a golden key "this, is the key to Miss Eyre's vault in Gringotts." He handed it to me. I looked at the queer thing, and thanked him.

"Good day, John" he said.

"Albus!"

The professor turned.

"Thank you."

"You are welcome, old friend." And within the blink of an eye, Professor Dumbledore vanished.

There was silence for a few seconds, until he spoke.

"Well my dear girl, how are you?"

"fine thank you, sir." I replied automatically.

"oh come now! Away with the formalities. Call me uncle, if you like."

I nodded, still feeling rather shy.

"So you are going to Hogwarts. Have you got your wand?"

"I shook my head. "No"

"Well then that's where we'll go. To Ollivander's." he said as he changed his robe.

"Nigel!" he called, and I almost screamed when a distorted, strange looking creature, with a huge head and elongated nose, and sharp ears appeared.

"Yes master?" he said in a feeble squeaky voice.

"Watch over the shop, will you?"

And he strolled out, with me following close behind.

"What was that?"

"What? Oh Nigel? He is my house-elf. Faithful good chap."

"An elf?"

"Why yes, did you not know about magical creatures?"

"I had heard of some but thought they are not real."

"Well there are Goblins, which you will see today when we go to Gringotts, there are elves, and dragons…"

I gasped. "Dragons?"

"Yes" he replied matter of factly "And hippogriffs too"

"What are Hippogriffs?"

"Well they look like gigantic birds that have the body of a horse…with feathers. And if they let you, you can ride on their backs."

"Why not just use a horse?"

"Because horses can't fly"

"What other creatures are there? Other birds?" I was getting more interested. Animals were always my favourite subjects on books.

"Well…there are Thesterals."

"What do they look like?" I asked eagerly.

"Well I don't know really. Never saw one. You see there are some Thesterals in Hogwarts, but they are invisible."

"If they are invisible, how will you know they exist?"

"Well there are some people who can see them. For example, Albus can."

"Will I be able to see them?"

"No, I don't think so."

"oh, that's a pity."

"No; you should never wish to see a Thesteral"

"Why not?"

"Because" he said slowly, and I feared I've tried his patience. "Only people can see them who have seen someone die."

"oh" I thought about that, and the more I thought, the more horrible it seemed. I resumed looking at the shops while we walked, when something occurred to me.

"So Professor Dumbledore has watched someone die?"

"Seen, not watched." I nodded though to me it sounded no different. "who?"

"I don't know." And we resumed the rest of the walk in silence.

We entered a shop at the end of the alley. It seemed to have a lot of narrow corridors but there was not much space to move about.

"Mr. Ollivander?" My uncle called.

A man, relatively young, appeared from one of the corridors, sliding on a ladder.

"Ah Mr. Eyre! I see you have brought young Miss Eyre, too!"

"Yes. She would be going to Hogwarts this year. And she would need her wand."

"Of course" he said climbing down the ladder and coming towards me. "Let me see your height, child." He said.

He handed me a stick..no, wand… and explaining something about wood and dragon's heart…

I took the stick but nothing happened. I even tried giving it a flick…yet nothing. I got disappointed. Maybe I couldn't do magic after all.

"Well, not that one obviously" said Mr. Ollivander, searching for another in one of the shelves of the nearby corridor.

"You see, Miss Eyre, it is always the wand that chooses the wizard. Now try this. "

I took the wand and flicked it. It took quite long, and became rather tiresome after the 5th try, but at last a wand accepted me. I had lost count of the number of wands I tried. Perhaps it was the 17th…when I flicked it, though I did not know what I was expecting to happen, I felt this was the one. I felt the warmth in my hand, and the colourful lights that jumped out of the tip.

"Yes this is it!" My uncle exclaimed. I realized how patiently he had sat there waiting for me to find a wand.

"Unicorn hair, oak wood, 26 centimeters. This would be 6 Galleons." Said Mr. Ollivander, smiling.

My uncle paid, I thanked Mr. Ollivander and we went out. I felt so happy, so excited to have a wand. Like a real witch.

"You seem pleased" my uncle remarked.

I smiled. "You don't pay in pounds?"

"No, we have Galleons. Nuts and Sickles."

"Professor Dumbledore said my parents had left me money. Maybe we should use that?"

"That's not necessary. I can handle the costs." He said kindly.

"Thank you."

"Now, for your robes. I think Mrs. Hopkins' shop was somewhere around here."

"When will we buy the books?" I asked eagerly.

"Right after the robes"

The measurements for robes did not take very long, and soon I found myself in an old book shop that smelled of parchment and ink. I ran into the shop and looked at the books with amazements, and smiled at the people on the covers who waved for me.

My uncle took the list from me and bought the necessary books as I looked around.

By the time all was bought, and our hands were full of packages of books and cauldrons and robes, it was long passed noon, and I was exhausted.

We went back to my uncle's shop, where he called me to the fire hearth. He took a green powder from the mantelpiece and handed it to me.

"That is floo powder. You will have to go in the fireplace…"

"IN?"

"yes in. And shout very precisely the name of your destination."

"Where?"

"Rondes Turn. And then release the powder. Mrs. Prince will be there to greet you I'm sure. And I will follow you in a minute."

I nodded and did as he said.

I did not understand what happened as I closed my eyes and green flames consumed me, until I felt like I was being thrown onto a rug, out of the fireplace. I coughed from the smoke, and turned to look around me.

"Oh at last." Said a tall, slender woman with dark black hair and pale skin in which her blue eyes stood out.

She bent towards me and helped me to stand up.

"Where is your uncle?"

"He is coming, ma'am."

"I were expecting you sooner due to the note he sent."

At that moment green flames appeared in the fire place again and my uncle stepped out.

"John."

"Good afternoon, Rose."

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I wonder if anyone has guessed who Rosamond Prince is. Well yeah Duh!


	5. Cognition

ummmm...this is awkward...hi. anyone there? or more precisely, after this long long wait, is anyone left? I'm really sorry people. I'm just too addicted to reading fanfiction to bother writing my own. sorry, no really really sorry. Anyways, I hope you will like this chapter. I'm trying to make Jane a bit more real, put her in touch with the reader, so we get to know her and her surroundings. Do tell me if I failed or succeeded.

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**Cognition**

The first week of my stay at my uncle's house, though at times lonely, was by no means an unpleasant one. I was rather relieved by the absence of any cousins and overjoyed by the amount of time I could spend reading about the wonderful new world I had discovered without any disturbance.

I found my uncle a quiet man of simple tastes whose modest house lacked all the splendor of Gateshead yet was neat and clean and therefore comfortable enough. Now passing over the excitement of first acquaintances, allow me, reader, to introduce you to John Eyre.

Some call men of his position 'old bachelors' but he was nothing like an old man. By my, then, childish calculation of countenance and general bearing, I had concluded that he could not have passed his mid-thirties. Lean and tall though very healthy, he had little colour to his face, rather like myself.

After having experienced the cold indifference of my aunt Reeds friends, the unjust condescension of the servants and sheer cruelty at my aunt's own hands, I found Uncle John's warm smile and simple affectionate manner a pleasant turn, nay, a dream realized. To have someone I could call family in the true sense of the word, someone who seemed to truly love me for who I was or could become and never abhor me for all that I lacked.

All this I realised with the slow unconscious learning of a child's grasp on experience. (Though, that is by no means suggesting that I was a slow child, but the contrary!) I congratulated myself on a small discovery I made on my very first night in my Uncle's magical house which has served me adequately over the years for me to appreciate it; and that discovery was to this account:

It was natural that once the initial shock of wonders had faded and my over excited mind had time to register all that had happened and reflect on all my future prospects that had arisen from this new development, or rather more, this new turn in my life, fearful doubts would cloud my mind.

That night, rather than sinking into slumber which would have been impossible for any child who had seen and heard all that I had in one day, I sank into the abyss of my own thoughts. The reader knows that no child, least of all I, would have borne the constant neglect and mistreatment that I had received at my 'family's' hands, had he or she not dreaded the alternative: namely, for me, a lifetime of poverty and hunger with my paternal family.

Yet there I was, tucked in bed kindly by my own uncle after a warm, pleasant supper! I had always linked poverty with torn cloths, fireless hearths, numb limbs and an empty stomach; but now I was forced to question, by my current circumstance, the very nature of the word that had haunted me throughout my miserable childhood.

The apprehension that had kept me quiet for so long and forced gratitude into my unwilling mind (I say mind, and not heart, for my affection-thirsty heart could not accept the undue harsh treatment I received.) must have all been for naught if the destituteness that I feared so much did not even exist!

In spite of everything, I was in the end thrusted into my 'poor' Uncles care and despite his supposed financial situation, he welcomed me with open arms; much more so than my rich aunt at Gateshead, with all her aristocratic airs, spacious rooms and enough food to feed an entire army of servants, had.

I felt less poor here (though of course the fire still burnt in the hearth, and my clothes were soft and warm and my body nourished.) than at Gateshead, and if this was what the society called poverty, then I welcomed it with all my heart. If being poor meant to live among all the unpleasant atrocities of life, then life at Gateshead must have been more wretched than anywhere else.

Thus contented by my present place on the ladder of life, an object which had hitherto been one of torture to me and hereafter, I promised myself, shall be one of utter indifference, I continued on to analyze my encounter with all my new friends: Professor Dumbledore, Uncle John and Mrs. Prince.

As the reader already has an account of the two former, I shall carry on with the latter.

Mrs. Prince seemed like a strict matronly lady at the first glance into her severe shining black eyes and tightly wrapped hair, and the first glance had not lied. However, despite her austere appearance and exacting tone, she turned out to be a rather motherly figure and not only to me but to my uncle as well (a fact which I found very puzzling at the beginning.) She stood tall and rigid and examined me from deep dark and seemingly haughty eyes, but they were not filled with the cold dislike my aunt's usually were filled with. Her tone was harsh but not her actions, and when uncle started to converse with her, her occasional smile was not affected like aunt Reeds. Though one could hardly detect any measure of softness in her harsh features she looked serene and somewhat beautiful.

I soon learnt that the Princes were a very old family, one of the kind described as 'pure bloods' who exerted great influence on the magical society. The Eyres too, though less influential and much less wealthy due to many consecutive generations drawing on the family money, were respected as an old pure blood family. That explained my uncles intimate acquaintance with Mrs. Prince…but what explained my ignorance of her and my uncle and everything else in this world– my world? The answer was disappointing in its lack of feeling and justice. The Eyres, like the rest of the 'pure' magical community, regarded my father's marriage to a magical descendant of non-magical parentage (muggles, they are called) as unsuitable just as my mother's family considered hers to a poor man degrading. I admit I rather pitied my parent's misfortune; their cursed love; despite admiring them for their courage in their plight of freedom. Courageous or not, it must have been dreadful to be rejected by both their families. And they both died, much like Romeo and Juliet. At least those two didn't leave behind a lonely friendless daughter; for all they knew neither Uncle Reed nor Uncle John might have accepted me!

But back to the Prince family; I did not have the occasion of meeting Mr. Prince as he was currently abroad on a matter of business, at least that was what I had picked out during my uncle's conversation with Mrs. Reed. My uncle, I noticed, didn't seem to like Mr. Prince much. It wasn't very hard to see the scowl on his face when he was mentioned, but then again there was only so much I could understand from the adults' conversation without irritating them with too many questions. Not to mention that I was too excited or my senses to work properly.

What had me in this state of nervous anticipation was the promise of meeting their daughter soon. I have mentioned that I was delighted with the absence of any cousins, who would have in all likelihood seen me as an intruder and an obstacle between them and their parent's affections and would not have welcomed me; I knew only too well of the unpleasantness of that circumstance. However I longed for the company of a friend my age with whom I could talk freely and share my happiness and excitement at the prospect of going to a magical school.

Therefore, I awaited impatiently the arrival of Eileen Prince, who according to her mother, had shown eagerness in meeting me as well "as soon as I had settled in my new household".

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Please review! Also tell me if I made a mistake in writing this chapter. would it have been better if I had just let readers get to know Jane as we move along, through dialogues and actions etc., or is it alright to be familiar with where we stand before moving on with the story? I really hate boring things...I hope this chapter wasn't boring. was it?


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